Faith and superstition redux

Well, I have learned my lesson. I wrote a modest little post the other day about faith being superior to superstition, making it painfully obvious, I thought, that the two things are really much the same, which I did by citing some of the more ludicrous examples of religious faith, like long-distance medical interventions by dead Indian maidens and special automated elevators for so-called observant Jews, all of which I thought was extremely clever of me. And what happened? The readers of this website, or many of them anyway, came down on me like a ton of bricks, not because they objected to the satire but because they didn’t get it. They took it literally! Oh, saints preserve us, was all I could think. How am I ever going to write a blog with such literal-minded readers laying for me out there in their bunkers, aiming their rhetorical howitzers at me?

“A load of crap,” one of them called my sardonic effort, as he earnestly fulminated against the very faith that I was parodying. And when I suggested to him I was in jest, he manfully stuck to his guns and wondered how I could be “so shallow” as to “give the corrupt institution of religious belief … any consideration at all.” It made me hold my head in my hands. How the devil was I going to handle this?

“Religion is the bane of mankind,” insisted another of these humorless preachers.

“It is a stretch to say that superstition and faith are fundamentally different,” harrumphed still another.

CAUTION: tongue-in-cheek comments ahead.

Thankfully, there was one reader who suggested I get an alternate photo of myself to adorn such posts as the faith-superstition one. “That picture should make it obvious,” he said, that “your tongue is in your cheek.” Maybe that’s what I’ll have to do — Photoshop my picture to add a bulge to one cheek — and I’ll swap that picture in when I write ironically. Or I’ll find a little smiley-face “emoticon,” like some people insert into their emails at critical junctures, and I’ll deploy it to signal every tongue-in-cheek sentence that I write. Yes, that’s what I’ll do.

***

On a different note, let me humbly thank all those readers who wrote to welcome me when I posted my “Greeting to readers” a couple of weeks ago. At the time I was still negotiating the technology of editing these posts, screening comments, inserting photos, and all the other on-screen minutia that go along with the production of digital literature, and frankly I didn’t know how to deal with it. I’m still figuring it all out, actually, but I did appreciate the generous comments, and I will try not to let you down, those of you who were so gracious. But as for the literalists besieging me now, well, I’m going to be on my guard.

Carl Strock

12 Responses

Wait Carl, I don’t understand…is this another lampoon, or should I take it at face value and risk being one of those “literalists.” 😉

It doesn’t seem like an honest conversation on any topic can be had if we are to take the worst stereotypes or…“the more ludicrous examples.” Such an approach just tends to cements closed-minded prejudices and biases. Often, both the believers and the atheists (as well as “antitheists”: those who are contemptuous of any concepts of God and of those who believe), seem to judge each other by the more ludicrous examples. The original piece and all the comments remind me of the writer Robert Anton Wilson and his lament over the responses to his writings:

“The Fundamentalist Christians have told me that I am a slave of Satan and should have my demons expelled with an exorcism. The Fundamentalist Materialists inform me that I am a liar, charlatan, fraud and scoundrel. Aside from this minor difference, the letters are astoundingly similar. Both groups share the same crusading zeal and the same lack of humor, charity and common human decency. These intolerable cults have served to confirm me in my agnosticism by presenting further evidence to support my contention that when dogma enters the brain, all intellectual activity ceases.”

On the other hand (or is it the same hand?), in the movie Secondhand Lions, the character Hub played by Robert Duvall makes an interesting speech to his nephew:

“Sometimes the things that may or may not be true are the things a man needs to believe in the most. That people are basically good; that honor, courage, and virtue mean everything; that power and money, money and power mean nothing; that good always triumphs over evil; and I want you to remember this, that love… true love never dies. You remember that, boy. You remember that. Doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. You see, a man should believe in those things, because those are the things worth believing in.”

For this character, the above are the things he believes in and deems worthwhile. It’s not about “proof” – that’s not the point of faith. The rest of us may have our own list of things we believe in that can’t be proven, or choose only to believe in what can be proven. But I would submit that not all skeptics, believers, doubters, etc., are dogmatic and humorless, and not all faith is – or need be – blind, slavish, and unquestioning.

You have to admit, that post may have been a little too tongue in cheek, particularly within the context of the TU blogs where it’s much more common to read ideological rants than satire. Noticeably absent from the reaction were certain commenters who would typically be offended and start foaming at the mouth at any post critical of religion so either they haven’t taken to reading this blog yet or also didn’t “get it.” Rest assured though, the readers of the TU blogs will eventually get used to Carl’s style and hopefully misunderstandings of this sort will be the exception rather than the norm.

A cross? A six-pointed star? A crescent? I will just stick with my interlocking NY, navy pinstripes, and a number on the back. No name, of course. There have been 27 holy Octobers, and the next one is a bit elusive. Faith is knowing that it’s never over until it’s over, and it never will be over.

Memo to Carl:
Remember the tar baby episode from Song of the South? The more you struggle against it, the more you get smothered.
(insert emoticon with tongue in cheek) “This here’s called tha Insternet. Not sure what that there means, but here weze Instergate what others writes ‘cuz we knows it all and theze don’t.”

‘nuf said.

signed
BSmeter

“If people paid attention to things that really mattered, there would be a shortage of seven irons.”

It’s hard to believe that the people who love and follow you have so little sense of humor, are so densem and take posts like this one literally. I thought it was witty, amusing and fun. Perhaps you need to employ the latest
#NOT.

The problem with writing on the TU blogs – and I do anyway – is that people don’t read, they summarize what they think is your point.

I wrote a piece about something that Alan Chartock, who I had as a professor in college, said, about which I clearly dsagreed. Someone wrote about why would I listen to Chartock anyway, managing to bring up Alan’s purported support of Scott Ritter. I DISAGREED with Alan. SO weird. Good luck, ’cause you’ll need it.

Well, I wouldn’t exactly put your referenced blog post on the same level of satire as say “A Modest Proposal.” Of course from what I understand there were plenty of people back then who took the essay seriously, including many people who thought the proposal was a great idea, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that some of your readers didn’t understand the satire. Of course what I take to be your underlying premise in that post is not surprisingly somewhat sophomoric, as are many of the comments of your readers to that post, including some who got the satire. For example re Christopher Hitchens. I loved most of Hitchens’ writings, but when he got into religion and spirituality he really went off the rails intellectually, as do most of his fellow travelers like Dawkins and Harris. This sort of stuff may be great for titillating people who already agree with you, but it’s really embarrassing otherwise.

Note: The Times Union is not responsible for posts and comments written by non-staff members.